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It was heartbreaking to be there. “The walls are closing in. I’m completely alone in this house, all the time,” my grandma said; her brown indigenous skin turned light for the lack of sun. It was my annual visit to Santiago de Chile, and I was back to her place. And in my wondering, gloomy…

I walked and I walked, swallowing my angsty thoughts, suffocating on them. The streets, the people, the whole fucking city… just a big blur. Everything had become transparent, and all I could see through was her. She was all there was, all that mattered. And it was over. “We need to talk,” I had texted…

“You are being the better person,” she said over the phone. I scoffed. “I know,” I replied, with a sad and passive-aggressive tone. I could feel the walls closing in. Hanged up with anxiety creeping down my throat to my stomach. Went back to my computer and gambled away 1,000 bucks worth of cryptocurrencies. Now…

Translating directly from Spanish to English, or the other way around, brings… confusing results. I won’t waste each other’s time with some amusing examples (which -perhaps,- might be the final push you need to learn Spanish, anyway.) Though, there’s one word worth mentioning, that comes to my mind quite often, lately: “Extraño.” As a noun…

There’s only so much racism I can take. No more than just a small dose of these fucking Danes reacting with fear or disdain whenever they -inadvertently- run into me, the “dark guy.” Hardly just a tad of their casual “I’m just coincidentally crossing the street (when I see you walking my way)”, their nonchalant…